It had been a few weeks since Harry had arrived to the Burrow, and he had to say, he was glad to be back home. Of course, the Weasley's were more of a home to him than the Dursley's ever were. If he had ever been given the choice, he would have lived with them from the very start. But alas, wishful thinking aside.
It was currently sun down and everyone had been done with their chores, including him, and now Ron, Hermione and him were seated on the worn wooden floor of Ron's room, with Harry levitating a ball of flaming newspaper. They had been discussing the recent occurrences within the wizarding world. Harry had regurgitated the information that Tonks had told him and Mrs. Weasley, and to the role of Hermione's eyes, he found out all there was to know about Scrimgeour.
He found out how, aside from Moody, he had been the most capable Aurors in the force. And being the best meant having the best paranoia of all... and ego.
"No wonder the bloody git doesn't want any help." Spoke Harry, few sparks flying from the tip of his wand.
"And not only that Harry," said Hermione, grabbing one of the Daily Prophets they hadn't burned yet. She flipped through a few pages before showing Harry what was on it.
"Scrimgeour and Dumbledore have been at it for a good while now, ever since he became Prime Minister." She spoke as Harry grabbed the newspaper and read it.
"It also says that he wants to add more security to Hogwarts." He muttered, a small part of him fearing the possible return of the Dementors.
As if reading his mind, Ron spoke up. "Don't worry mate, Dumbledore already set conditions. No dementors, only people."
Harry sighed. That was good. He wasn't in the mood to face the Dementors again. Considering what had happened last time, what with him falling from the sky and all, he could go on a life time without ever interacting with them again.
And suddenly, as if coming from no where, and without his knowing, he muttered. "Too bad, I kind of liked them."
"Excuse me?" Asked Hermione, a small feeling of shock and horror flowing through her.
The Dementors had terrified her, causing her and many of her fellow Gryffindors nightmares. Nightmares that, when awoken, weren't gone, only hidden behind the veil of consciousness.
"Harry, the Dementors almost got you and Sirius killed, how can you say that?" She asked.
Harry, as if in a trance, came back, shocked at what she said. "What?" Was all he could ask.
"Yeah mate, that was a bit messed up." Added Ron.
Harry was confused. He hadn't said anything. At least he thought he didn't. But as he mulled it over, he could hear a silent laugh coming from the back of his mind. He shook it off, eager to move on with the conversation.
"Anyway, the people that are going to be around Hogwarts this year, will they be Aurors?" He asked.
Hermione nodded. "Yes," and then she paused. "And no."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Scrimgeour, like everyone else believes you are the Chosen One. And because of this-"
"He wants to keep me safe." Finished Harry. He couldn't stop the pang of anger rising within him. He didn't need protection. The people that needed protection were the people that Voldemort was killing. The innocent. The helpless.
"But he doesn't want the public to think he thinks you are the Chosen One. It would mean bad business for the Ministry if they found out that their biggest weapon was an underaged student."
Harry snorted. Of course, it was all about image, politics. No one cared for the people getting killed. It disgusted him.
'Maybe they deserve what they get.' Spoke the other him in his head.
Harry shook his head. No, no one deserved to die.
'Oh come on, you were beginning to see my way, what happened?' He asked, Harry feeling the frustration coming from within.
"I was wrong." Harry stated, gripping his wand harder, causing the flames to spark up and turning from a warm golden color to a cold green.
"What do you mean?" Asked Ron, eyes glued in awe at the display of color change of the flame.
"The Ministry will be useless against Voldemort." He stated, eyes hardening.
Hermione nodded sadly. She knew that Harry was right. With the way things were going, the Ministry would be useless in the fight against Voldemort.
"He's right, Ron." Spoke Hermione. A dark feeling settled over the room as Ron eyed Hermione, the question and the concern clear in his eyes. If she admitted it, the most brilliant mind between the three of them, and Harry admitted it, the most level headed of the three, then there was something clearly wrong with the Ministry.
"What do you mean," asked Ron, the concern now dripping off his voice. He knew exactly what they were subtextually implying. And it scared him. It scared all of them. No one wanted to voice it.
"It's very possible that the Ministry may be or already is infiltrated by Death Eaters." She said, voice low, as if speaking some terrible secret.
There it was. What Ron feared. He knew it before she opened her mouth to speak, but now it was out there. Words put out into the universe, and now, the fear truly settled within him, but not for himself.
"My dad works for the Ministry." Ron said meekly.
Harry lowered his gaze at the fire. It went from a cold green to a soft blue, casting soft shadows over the three. He felt bad. He knew how horrible it felt to be worried about someone who was so close to danger. But as he sat there, eyes fixed on the flame, no words of comfort came to him, the fire left him abandoned. And that's all he had as comfort... abandonment. The fact that all his family was dead. 'Safely out of the way.' The voice said.
Harry closed his eyes. "I'm sorry Ron." He tried saying, his voice faltering slightly, but the meaning still conveyed.
They sat in silence. They didn't need to speak in order to know what they were talking about. This was war. And war takes. It takes family, friends, and anything held dear. Apart from several others, Ron, Harry, and Hermione were one of the few who knew that war was coming, war that would shake the foundation of the wizarding world.
The sky had grown ashen, blocking any ray of sunshine. The air was filled to the brim with sorrow and dark despair. The castle that used to be known as Hogwarts was now rubble adorning the foundation. Students of all ages lay around, their bodies mutilated in many different ways, but all sharing the fact that they were dead. Despite how many faces had been ripped from their bodies or how many limbs were exploded from the inside, they were all dead.
The Death Eaters all laughed as Voldemort made his way forward, wand pointed at Harry. He had finally won. After many years of planning and failing, he had beaten the "Boy Who Lived". Corrupted joy erupted from Voldemort in the form of a condescending laugh.
"You thought you could beat me, boy?" Asked Voldemort, the mirth evident in his red snake like eyes.
Despite being advanced by Voldemort, Harry couldn't keep his eyes away from his snake, Nagini. She was currently eating away at Ron, starting at the bottom, his toes, and making her way up.
Ron himself didn't seem to mind... how could he, he was dead. Dead, just like everyone else. Dead like Ginny, Hermione, Neville, McGonagall, Dumbledore, Snape... dead, like Tonks.
Another thing that they all shared was that even in death, they were all staring at him, in life, expecting him to save them, only to be let down. Harry tried to get up, tried to use his anger, his righteous grief to pull any strength that he had left into one last stand against Voldemort... only to be thrown with a wave of Voldemort's wand. Harry tried to get his wand, which had been thrown a few feet away from him. He stopped as Voldemort came into view.
"You think you can stop me now, Potter? I am powerful beyond your comprehension. Nagini, come here." The snake slithered and hissed her way to Voldemort.
"Dinner time." He said, but the snake didn't move. Instead, it kept its predatory eyes locked with Harry's weary and scared ones.
As they stared at one another, Harry could feel something between them. Some connection, he just didn't know what it was. One thing he knew for sure was that it felt magical, and dark.
"Enough of that." He heard, but when he tried to look at Voldemort, he found himself in Voldemort's stead.
"My Lord," spoke Bellatrix, looking at the other Harry, "may I kill the boy." She asked.
The other Harry's cold eyes never left Harry as he aimed his wand at Bellatrix and muttered "Avada Kadavra". Bellatrix's body hit the floor, joining in the casualities that was the second wizarding war.
Harry, too exhausted to react, opted to simply stare at the other him. The other him finally broke his cold gaze and smirked. "Can't have you finding out about the snake so soon, now can we?"
He kneeled, trying to get a closer look to Harry. "You enjoyed that, I know you did. Me killing Bellatrix. You've been longing to do that since she killed Sirius."
Harry couldn't react, but he knew the other him was right. He enjoyed watching Bellatrix's dead body hit the ground. He enjoyed watching the look of pure horror as everything she knew about the "Dark Lord" changed in the second between life and death. The only thing about it that Harry didn't like was that he wasn't the one to metaphorically pull the trigger.
"You could have this. You could have it all." The other him spoke, his voice growing colder. "All you'd need to do is start playing his game."
A bright light suddenly came from behind them. As it touched Harry's skin, he could feel the strength returning to his body. The other him only grimaced as he straightened himself.
"I guess not yet." He softly spoke. And with a wave of the other Harry's wand, the rubble of Hogwarts disappeared along with the bodies and the Death Eaters, leaving Harry and the other Harry in a field of grass.
"How many more people need to die before you realize that this approach is only putting more people in harm's way, Harry?" Asked the other him, his voice becoming weary.
"No one else will die, I'll make sure of it. Dumbledore-"
"To hell with Dumbledore!" Suddenly yelled the other Harry, startling him.
His darker aspect made his way to Harry, the anger evident in his eyes. "Dumbledore has done nothing for us. He is the only one that he ever feared and yet what does he do? He sits in his Ivory tower, letting everyone else take the fall, all except him."
Harry shook his head. Of course he had his doubts about Dumbledore, but he never thought of it that way. He never thought of him as a coward who wasn't willing to stick his neck out for others. He thought of him as a man of no violence, but he knew there was a lot more to him than he thought. It had become evident at the Ministry of Magic the year prior. All of a sudden, that façade seemed to break, it fell apart. And although denying it, Harry was left to see it all as it truly was.
He was blind before, but now he saw.
How did he wish to be blind again.
"I don't know what Dumbledore is playing at, but he has a plan, a plan that involves exactly what I think." Spoke the other Harry, eyes cast towards the ever greying sky.
A skull suddenly appeared over the sky and the other Harry closed his eyes and sighed, a smile spreading. "Of course." He spoke.
He then looked at Harry. "You need to decide whether you are going to let more people die or whether you will do something yourself." The other Harry said before taking his wand out on Harry and casting rennervate.
Harry woke up, cold sweat sticking his hair to his skin. The moon was still high in the sky, morning was a long way away, he hoped he didn't have any more dreams like that again. Fate rarely was kind to him.
The day arrived where Harry needed to head into Diagon Alley to buy his school supplies. The Weasley's all went, but Ron, Hermione, and Harry split off from the rest and made their own way through the magical alley, enjoying the trip despite the war ever looming over their heads.
As Harry passed through the huge crowd that seemed to go on forever, he took note how more and more people spared glances towards him and began whispering amongst themselves. He tried to maintain his annoyance at a bare minimum. The last thing he needed was to lash out and end up in the Daily Prophet more than he already was.
"Ignore them, Harry." Hermione would say as they moved through the crowd. Harry would roll his eyes and keep moving.
Eventually they found themselves at the outskirts of the huge crowd that had formed. Some fresh air was what they needed. As much as Harry enjoyed in the wizarding world, he found that he didn't enjoy being smothered by the smell of sweaty wizards running around trying to buy all of their things. So, when given the chance to escape into the back alleys that adorned the magical community, Ron, Harry, and Hermione took it, ending up in a buffer alley tucked between two buildings.
Before they entered the true back alleys, Harry grabbed both Ron and Hermione, pulling them into the shadows cast by the buffer alley. He put his finger to his lips before they could ask him any questions and pointed out into the back alley.
Malfoy and his mother were walking by, the elder Malfoy carrying an air of superiority with her as she snarled at any witch or wizard that dared cross her path while the younger Malfoy walked with much the same superiority, except it was tainted with a look of hesitation. He kept rubbing at his left forearm before his mother whispered something into his ear and he quit.
"Well?" Asked Ron, glancing at Harry. "They're just shopping. Everyone is." He said.
"No, there's something more." Snarled Harry, he walked out into the middle of the alley once the Malfoy's had taken some stairs down into Knockturn Alley. He turned to Ron and Hermione.
"I'm gonna go and follow them." He said, taking out his invisibility cloak from his back pocket. Hermione bit her lip.
"Do you think that's a good idea Harry?" She asked. Harry gave her a look as he threw the cloak over himself. "Do you want to come or not?" He asked.
Ron and Hermione gave each other a resigned look and draped the cloak over themselves as well. They navigated down the stairs and into Knockturn Alley. The place was in shambles. The sky down here seemed greyer, darker, and much gloomier than in Diagon Alley. Most of the shops were closed with windows boarded up. There was few foot traffic down here, allowing the trio to quickly locate where the blonde pair had gone off to. It seemed as if they entered Borgin and Burkes.
While Narcissa Malfoy made herself busy with some books, her son, Draco, talked with the man in charge of the shop. He was showing the younger Malfoy a tall cabinet, which seemed to be broken down and worn. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, meanwhile, made their way into the shop through a back door. After constant tugging, they finally decided to stay at the corner of the shop while Malfoy spoke to the shop keeper.
"And you're sure this is going to work once I fix it?" He asked, all the usual snark missing from his voice, instead, a shaky hesitation took its place. The shop keeper, gave the boy a toothless grin and slapped the door of the cabinet, shaking it.
"Ho yes Mr. Malfoy sir. This lil fella'll have you wot you need." He spoke. Malfoy took a step back in disgust.
"And it's brother?"
"Already in place. Been there all along." He said. Malfoy nodded, swallowing his nervousness. He reached into his pocket and dug out some Galleons. He handed them to the shop keeper who took it with a grin and placed them into his pocket.
"And with that I trust you keep your end of the bargain, including helping me fix the other one." Malfoy said before exiting the worn down shop.
Harry, meanwhile couldn't help but wander over to the cabinet. He remembered hiding in it the summer before his second year at Hogwarts. He hadn't recalled anything specific about it, he just knew that he hid in it.
"Hermione, do you know anything about this cabinet?" He whispered, making sure he wasn't heard by the shop keeper who had returned to the counter to count the coins he had been given.
Hermione shook her head. "Sorry Harry, I don't know, but maybe we can ask him." She said, nodding towards the shop keeper. Ron shrugged.
"It's worth a try, mate." Harry nodded.
"But I can't be the one to go and ask. He'll recognize me." He said. Hermione nodded. "I'll go then." And before Ron could offer himself, she had stepped out from the cloak.
The shop keeper instantly looked up from his counting, confusion pouring into his eyes. "Where'd you come from, young miss." He asked, putting away his coins.
"I entered," she said, pointing to the door, "through there." The shop keeper scratched at his balding head.
"Swear dat chime was fixed." He spoke before shaking his head. "Ne'er mind that, wot can I do fer you?" He asked.
"I'm just browsing." She answered, walking around the dirty floor of the shop. She ended up picking a book with no cover on it. "What's this?" She asked.
The shopkeeper made his way towards her. Ron and Harry had their wands out, ready to stun him if he tried attacking Hermione. The shopkeeper took the book from her . "This book," he said, shaking it in front of her, "will suck all the knowing from you and leave you a dunce. Takes five minutes to start takin' effect" He said, setting it down on the counter.
"Nasty little piece of magic." He said, a grin on his face. Hermione gave a him a smile that looked more like a grimace. She made her way over to the cabinet, placing her hand on it. "What's this?" She asked.
The shopkeeper shook his head. "Sorry miss, that's not in stock. Already sold it." He said.
Hermione cocked her head to one side. "But it's still here." She pointed out. "Why would someone leave it here?"
"Dats nun of your business." He said, a frown setting on his face. Hermione shrugged.
"Can you at least tell me what it does. Looks fairly ordinary." She said. The shopkeeper shook his head.
"Dats nun of your business either." The frown had settled on his face now. Hermione knew she had overstayed her visit. Harry, on the other hand, was getting mad. He needed answers. He wasn't about to let some slimy git like Malfoy, the son of a Death Eater who tried to kill him last year, get away with anything. He could be here on his father's orders for all he knew. But one thing he did know was that he was going to get some answers.
He threw off the cloak, wand pointed at the shopkeeper, who whipped his head over to the boy who had suddenly appeared out of thin air.
"My god, it's 'Arry Potter!" He wheezed. Harry stalked toward the man, wand still pointed at him.
"Yes, and you're going to tell me what it was that Malfoy bought." He sneered.
"What are you doing, Harry?" Exclaimed Hermione, coming up beside him. The now visible Ron also stood by him. "Yeah mate, what are you doing?" He asked.
"You two need to trust me on this." He said, his eyes never leaving the shopkeeper's own black beady eyes.
Ron and Hermione gave each other a look, the internal struggle real. They didn't know what Harry wanted to do, but they'd never let him down, and they weren't going to now.
"Alright then, what do you want us to do?" Asked Ron, pointing his own wand at the elder man.
"I need you to make sure no one enters this shop." He said, nodding toward the door and the windows. "Block those and put up the closed sign."
Ron and Hermione nodded, albeit a bit hesitant, before making their way to do what Harry needed. While busy, Harry turned back to the old man. "Now, I won't repeat myself again, what did Malfoy want?" He asked.
The shopkeeper shook his head, eyes filled with a determination. "I can't tell you." He said through gritted teeth. Harry's eyes narrowed.
'Use the Cruciatus curse.' Spoke the voice in his head. Harry shook his head. No. Not like that. There was a different way, there always was. A smirk plastered itself on his face as he took a quick glance to the shopkeeper's counter, the cursed book sat there, ready to use. He waved his wand and muttered 'Accio' and caught the book as it flew over to him. He shoved it under the shopkeeper's nose.
"I trust you know what this is, right?" He asked, watching the fear in the shopkeeper's eyes intensify as the pieces of what Harry was intending to do fell into place.
Harry shoved it into the man's hands. 'Epoximise'
The shopkeeper tried to drop the book, but found he couldn't. The book had stuck itself to his hands. The man cried out but Harry continued with his questioning. "Now, you know what this'll do to you, so, if you value what little intelligence you have left, you will tell me what Malfoy was doing in here and what he was looking for."
The shopkeeper shook his head. "I-I- I can't say Mr. Potter. Please!" He begged, his voice shaking. Harry gritted his teeth. "Listen, you've got less than three minutes before that thing activates, now, tell me!"
The shopkeeper let out what seemed to be a moan of despair and muttered something along the lines of "lord protect me", before talking to Harry. "I'll die, you know." He said, hoping to garner some sympathy out of the boy. Harry shook his head. "You'll serve a fate worse than death if you don't tell me."
A tear fell from the shopkeeper's eye. "Dat's a vanishing cabinet. I don't know wot young Mr. Malfoy wants it fer. I didn't ask."
Hermione entered, looking out of breath. "Harry, someone's coming."
"How long before they're here?" He asked, feeling the frustration bubble up within him. He needed to know more.
"A minute, Ron's trying to distract them by throwing rocks."
He turned back to the shopkeeper. "What does it do?"
"It's in the name, ain't it?" He replied.
"Harry." Repeated Hermione from the shop's window. Harry quickly cast the unsticking charm before he, Ron, and Hermione threw the cloak over themselves.
"I'll tell 'em." Said the shopkeeper, kicking the book away from him. "I'll tell 'em you came snoopin'."
Harry snarled, "no you won't", before pointing his wand at the man and casting, 'Obliviate'
The man's eyes glazed over as in a trance before they cleared up. He looked around at his empty shop, confused as to why he was in the middle of it before the front door chimed open. "Oh good, a cust'mer." He said, and went to greet the scraggy looking wizard who had entered the shop.
Outside, Hermione threw the cloak off herself and stepped in front of Harry, her eyes filled with anger. "What was that?!" She hissed.
Harry shrugged. "I did what I needed to do, 'Mione."
Hermione scoffed.
"You almost lobotomized a man!"
"Yeah, Harry, that's a bit too much, don't you think?" Added Ron, taking off the cloak as well. Harry rolled his eyes and took off the cloak last.
"I wasn't going to let him actually become dumb. I had a perfectly reasonable plan."
"And that was?" Asked Hermione, arms crossed. Harry knew why she was pissed. He understood her concern.
"If it didn't work, I was going to obliviate him and do it all again." He replied.
"Oh..." said Ron, thinking it through, "that's actually quite brilliant".
Hermione threw Ron a glare. "Well, it almost went wrong. And if it had gone wrong, you could have seriously ruined that man's life." She said, turning to go back to Diagon alley.
It was Harry's turn to scoff. "Not much of a loss," he muttered.
"What?" Asked Hermione, turning back around.
"Nothing."
...
"Let's get back then, Mrs. Weasley is probably looking for us."
"Yeah, let's go."
As the trio entered Diagon Alley and mingled back in with the crowd, Harry couldn't help but think back to what occurred at Knockturn alley. In truth, he had no contingency plan. He had felt the anger within him begin to over take him. He knew if the shopkeeper hadn't given him what he wanted, he was going to let him suffer. That was just as bad as using the Cruciatus curse, he thought.
'No, the thing is, now you are beginning to see the world the way I see it.' Spoke the voice in his head. Harry shook his head, side stepping a short fat wizard. That was not what he wanted. He didn't want to be like them, the Death Eaters. 'Then they will take from you. You will lose more and more people, helpless to stop it.'
"Harry," spoke Mrs. Weasley, coming out from Flourish and Blotts, cutting off his thought process. "You find everything you need?" Harry nodded.
"Good, then let's get back. Come on everyone!"
On the way back to the Burrow, only two things ran through Harry's mind. One, he had no clue what a vanishing cabinet was. He needed to find that out, and with Hermione cross with him, he didn't know if she was going to help. The other thing on his mind was the voice in his head. The other him that haunted his dreams.
He, it, whatever it was, made sense. He needed to take back what had been taken from him. 'Yes. Do you see?' He did, he saw, he knew. He knew that it was a road he wasn't willing to take. He would not give up what separated him from him. From Voldemort.
'Then you will suffer. You will lose and lose until you realize what needs to be done.' Harry shook his head. He wouldn't, he'd make sure of it.
'We'll see.' Replied the other him, leaving Harry with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.